


Hold This

by somewhereelse



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7783000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewhereelse/pseuds/somewhereelse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2.5 AU. Felicity Smoak: The Accidental Pack Mule of Team Arrow, But Really, Just Oliver Queen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold This

"Hold this."

She's standing just at his shoulder, intently watching his back muscles ripple as he rummages through the old trunk. His words are followed by a gloved hand thrusting out a worn arrow: wooden shaft, stone head, and feather fletching.

Felicity uses two fingers to carefully pluck it from his grasp. Absentmindedly, as he continues his rifling, she reaches out a finger to prod what she's sure is a dull tip. 

"Don't," he cautions. Her eyes guiltily snap up to meet his, only he's still focused on the increasingly futile search of the trunk. 

***

"Hold this."

She's in front of her computer bank, heels kicked off and bare feet absorbing the welcome chill of the concrete floors. Her focus is on tailoring the search to the new parameters, so she blindly reaches out a hand while still typing with the other.

It's a metal handle, warm from both his grip and the unrelenting high temperatures of the summer. When he releases the other end, her arm plummets downward for a split second before the handle is wrenched out of her grip.

"What the--" Felicity cuts herself off when she twists around and spies Oliver attempting to hide a sword behind his back. "An actual sword? When I'm not even paying attention? What if I dropped it on myself?"

"You were about to," he points out before realizing that was not helping his case. "I thought you were paying attention."

"No, I'm too busy trying to find this scumbag for you to beat up." She adjusts her glasses before returning her attention to the screens. "Go play with your sword."

Her eyes close momentarily, and she admirably fights the babble. "Shut up."

***

She's just clamored down the metal stairs and is heading for her chair when Digg scrambles past her. 

"Hold this."

He extends the end of an escrima stick in her direction, barely waiting for her to take hold, before bolting for the bathroom, a hand covering what is surely a bloody nose. Roy, she assumes, is out of sight and more than likely sprawled on the mats at Oliver's feet.

"What?" Oliver asks innocently when she glares at him reproachfully.

***

This time, it's unspoken. 

He just tosses his mask into her lap and starts tugging off the rest of his uniform. She's basically dazed as he shrugs off the jacket and pulls the shirt over his head. It's not until his fingers are deftly undoing the fastenings to the leather pants that her brain stops glitching. She squeaks and spins around in her chair, feet skidding to prevent a full rotation. 

"Why aren't you dressed?" Oliver sounds only slightly panicked so she looks back over to find him in dress pants, hurriedly tucking in the tails of his misbuttoned white shirt. He better fix that before the gossip hounds at the charity gala catch sight of him. 

"Oh. Oh!" Felicity bolts for the bathroom--where normal people go to get changed and not out in the open of a giant basement serving as a vigilante team's headquarters. Only after she's calmed her breathing and is unzipping her dress does she realize that she's still holding his damn mask. 

***

They're busting their way down the hall but her heels keep snagging on the completely illogical shag carpeting for a hotel with this many stars. She careens into a wall and, using it for balance, hops forward out of a shoe. 

"Hold this."

Oliver snatches the red heel out of her hand. Before she has a chance to reach down for the other, he wedges a forearm under her ass and hauls her against his body, all while keeping his momentum. Felicity tries to muffle her squeal as she grabs his shoulders for balance but doesn't bother to stifle her laughter when he all but kicks the room door open. 

Minutes (seconds?) later, after they've clumsily stripped each other bare, he traces her arms slowly. Once he's curled her fingers around the decorative rods of the headboard, Oliver gives her an absolutely filthy grin.

"Hold this."


End file.
